


That’s What Vans Are For

by EntreNous



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Boys Kissing, Drunk Sex, First Time, M/M, Underage Character(s), van sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-03
Updated: 2005-12-03
Packaged: 2017-12-08 00:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/754644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EntreNous/pseuds/EntreNous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Funny how the two of them were in Oz’s van with no Oz in sight."</p>
            </blockquote>





	That’s What Vans Are For

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt from smut_69. Title a mangle of "That's What Friends Are For".

Xander frowned, looking around for Oz. He remembered Oz being there. Oz, with raised eyebrows, and hair that was orange, even though Xander liked it best when it was a bright, spike-y blue. He had told Oz so, and watched the orange shock of hair nod along with the rest of Oz’s head, up-down-up. “It’ll be blue again soon enough,” Oz had offered.

Oz was his friend. Xander may have told Oz that at some point during the night. He sure hoped so. It was a little hard to remember what exactly had been said amid the smoke and the drinks after he’d headed backstage with the Dingoes once their second set was through.

Had Buffy been there? Yeah, Buffy had been there for the first set. Then Angel came in, serious and swooping, and Buffy left with a frown on her face and Willow in tow. Xander had stayed put because he’d already had two beers in the back room when the girls weren’t paying attention. Plus if Buffy was going to patrol, he should probably guard the Bronze, or something. Never know when vampires would show up at the Bronze.

So he stayed in the back room with Oz and his band. Oz seemed kind of like the leader of his band, even though Oz was really, really, really, really small. Only not, because he didn’t look like he felt small. He walked around like he had the frame of a guy who played center on the basketball team. Short though. That was Oz. Short. Also Willow’s boyfriend.

Then Oz was not there, and Devon still was, and hey, when had they moved from the Bronze to Oz’s van? Funny how the two of them were in Oz’s van with no Oz in sight.

“Oz is a werewolf,” Xander said to Devon seriously before accepting another beer from the cooler. He tried to untangle his legs from sitting Indian-style, grunting when it took longer than expected. When he had them where he wanted them, stretched out in front where they should be, he slumped against an amplifier, pressing his cheek gratefully against the coolness of plastic and metal.

Devon leaned back against the wall of the van where he sat, looking as though he was considering what Xander had said. He stretched one arm out on his bent knee, and brought his other hand to his mouth to draw on the joint he held. “No shit,” he finally said after he exhaled. “I thought he was making up all that wolf-boy stuff that just to get out of jamming.”

Xander shook his head a few times, then a few more times, because it was somehow, suddenly, very important that Devon understand what he was saying. “With the growling,” he said, and held up a hand curled into a pseudo-claw. “Only sometimes, though.”

“That’s fucking weird,” Devon said at last, and Xander had to agree. He did so with his eyes closed and a wave of his hand. Even though it was only him and Devon in the cavernous back of the van, it felt really hot.

“It’s cool that you could hang with us tonight,” Devon said after a while.

When Xander opened his eyes, Devon was sitting closer than he remembered. “Oz is my friend.”

“Yeah, you’ve been saying that,” Devon replied. He detached Xander’s beer from his hand, took a swig of it, and then put it down out of sight behind him. “How come we don’t hang out more?”

“We?” Xander asked. He meant to gesture back and forth in the space between the two of them, but Devon had inched closer, and he ended up thwacking Devon in the chest. When he opened his mouth to apologize, though, Devon just held his hand where it was. “Um . . .You, me, and Oz? Or me and you?” He licked his lips and watched Devon’s eyes get a little darker.

“You and me. You know, I should have seen it before.” Devon grinned at him, slow and sure.

For some reason Xander’s heart was beating faster, and that was both weird and potentially embarrassing. Devon was so close he could probably hear the rapid _thump-thump-thump_. “See what now?”

“ ’Cause of you and Cordy,” Devon explained. “Why else would she . . . you know.” His gaze swept over Xander, as though he had already clarified everything.

Maybe if he hadn’t had that last beer what Devon was saying would have made everything clearer. Though truthfully, the pleasant buzz that had spread through Xander’s body mostly made him watch Devon’s lips _while_ Devon said things.

Oddly enough, Xander found himself wanting to agree with Devon’s mouth. “Right,” Xander told it. He meant to bob his head in a nod, but then Devon’s head was too close, and skull-cracking would have resulted. And then Devon’s whole face was getting closer, including the mouth that Xander was still watching, until his lips were on Xander’s.

“Hey,” Xander said in surprise. Their mouths had already matched up, though, so it came out more like “Hmmayymm.”

Devon didn’t bother answering with words. Or if they were words they got kind of muffled and garbled too and sounded more like moans. When Devon deepened the kiss (hard to deny at this point that this _was_ a kiss) and then slipped his tongue into Xander’s mouth, Xander raised his hands and settled them on Devon’s shoulders. But no, his hands were supposed to be pushing Devon away so Xander could laugh weakly and scramble out of the van. Instead they gripped harder and pulled Devon a little closer. Stupid hands.

But then again, maybe he was gripping Devon because he was kind of dizzy. After all, he had just shivered when Devon slipped one hand around his neck and stroked along the nape. Obvious signs of dizziness. Partly from drinking too much, partly from the fact that Devon was guiding him to lie down on the floor of the van, and partly from the way that one of Devon’s hands had moved down to cup Xander’s crotch, rubbing and stroking even as the rest of Devon twisted and undulated on top of him.

“Right on,” Devon said hoarsely in his ear when Xander helpfully hooked one of his legs behind Devon’s knees and proceeded to twist and push his body right back.

Okay, so dizziness wasn’t really cutting it as an excuse anymore. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was the haze of smoke that hung in the enclosed air of the van. Or maybe it was the way Devon kissed Xander like he was the best tasting thing that he had ever found. But soon enough Xander was pulling too hard on Devon’s t-shirt, yanking it over his head and scratching Devon’s back up in the process. When he heard harsh panting sounding off the metal walls, he didn’t spare time to wonder which of them the heavy breaths were coming from.

“Come on,” Devon encouraged him in a whisper. Luckily, Devon then solved the question of what the hell he wanted Xander to come on and do by fumbling at Xander’s zipper and drawing Xander’s hand to his button fly.

Xander paused only for the time it took him to lay blame squarely at the feet of the terrible and lawbreaking criminals who had supplied them with beer and weed before he undid Devon’s jeans and wrapped his hand around Devon’s cock. The grip and the rhythm were never a question; he just reversed the holds and strokes that were by now as familiar to him as wielding a stake in the cemetery.

Above him Devon grunted, dipping his head back down to get the kissing going again. And kissing Devon was great. All the singing must have loosened up his lips or something. Because Devon’s mouth was hungry and teasing, pulling out sounds of Xander that he didn’t think he’d ever heard from himself before.

Even better was the way that Devon’s fingers matched his as they tugged and slid along Xander’s cock. Xander mentally added another item to the thank you letter he could never send to Cordy, this time for his now-practiced ability to hold his jizz past that initial “Oh god!” shock-excitement that came from someone else’s hand on his dick.

Because it was definitely worth hanging in there for Devon’s thumb brushing along the head, Devon pulling his fingers down in a tight O, and for how every so often his fingers slipped down to fondle Xander’s balls.

It all made Xander buckle down on the threadbare carpet of Oz’s van, in a way he could never do when he was trying to finish a Chem lab at school. He so didn’t want to be the one who couldn’t handle mutltiple things at once -- in this case, the one who couldn’t focus on keeping the pace of his hand over Devon’s hard length steady and pulling those breathy moans out of Devon’s lips, at the same time he was canting his hips up to push his cock into Devon’s fist, all to the internal refrain of “More, more, more! How do you like it, how do you like it?”

With a harsh cry, Devon bit Xander’s shoulder and came all over Xander’s hand. Xander didn’t have time to say _ow_ or _ew_ , because he was too busy arching his body into Devon’s touch and gasping as he came hard.

There was a terrible moment of clarity and complete lack of drunkenness in which Xander realized that he had just let the lead singer of Dingoes Ate My Baby come all over him. And that he’d moaned and writhed and shaken right along with Devon, and oh god, all of it in Oz’s van.

Then Devon was wiping them both off with his own t-shirt, pulling Xander to his side as he rolled onto his back. When he tugged Xander’s arm over his chest, as though it were a given that they were bunking in Oz’s van for the night, Xander mouthed “Okaaayyy,” silently to no one in particular.

“Don’t freak out,” Devon said. His eyes were already closed, and his fingertips started trailing languidly over Xander’s arm.

Xander blinked. Then he yawned. It was hard to get a good hysterical running-scared reaction going in the afterglow. “Me? Why would I do that? No, I think I’ll wait til after the beer buzz fades. Or until I wake up. Whichever comes first.”

“Good deal,” Devon said. He tightened his arm around Xander. “Or you could just skip the whole weirded-out thing and go out for Egg McMuffins with me in the morning.”

“Egg McMuffins?” Xander repeated.

“Right. Good for hangovers. Then ditch school and go back to my house and mess around.”

“Go back to your house and mess around,” Xander echoed.

“Right,” Devon said again.

“I can’t believe we both just . . . in Oz’s fan,” Xander said sleepily.

“Are you kidding?” Devon laughed. “This is what vans are _for_.”


End file.
